I was so angry this morning; raising teenagers, it’s the best of times, it’s the worst of times. [Read more…]
NOTE: Sections of this post include implied PROFANITY; please click with caution.
Truth be told, sometimes I’m purely exhausted. So when my son asked if he could contact his cousin about attending some concert, I grunted my version of permission, positive he wouldn’t get tickets. Man, was I wrong.
A few months ago one of my business partners invited me to a networking event; since it was hosted in my hometown, I gladly accepted. Upon arrival I realized that this wasn’t a typical networking event — instead, I’d been invited to attend a “Professional Wisdom Circle”.
A few weeks ago, as I was pulling out of the kiddy drop-off line, I had this intense urge to slam my foot on the gas and speed down the strait that led from my kid’s high school to our home. As my heart raced, I lifted my foot from the gas and the words “Lime Rock” popped into my head. Giddy for a moment, my next adventure started to unfold.
Last week as I was preparing for brunch with friends, I found myself in the local liquor store.
As I wandered the isles lined with wines from around the world, I smiled remembering the times I’d spent exploring Germany, Italy and France. While my fingers skimmed the Cupcake and Mommy’s Time Out labels, I felt the exhaustion of parenthood wash over me and was silently grateful to be beyond the diapering phase of my life. It was with this relieved and rested spirit that I raced to find the vodka; but alas the liquor store wasn’t done with me.
Perched very high-up on a shelf with other surprisingly orphaned bottles of booze was the largest bottle of champagne I’d ever seen. More astonishing than the size was the brand – VEUVE CLICQUOT or translated from French to English “Widow Clicquot”. Yes, it’s ironic as I think of it now, since Chris and I fell in love with the history of the champagne on a cruise many, many years ago. Upon hearing the brand’s translation, we devilishly contemplated the details surrounding François Clicquot’s death and marveled at how the Madam could rise to such prominence in an era where women were not permitted to even open a personal bank account.
While I gazed at the bottle, I remembered every-single-popped-cork. Toasting new homes, promotions and the birth of our children; a bottle of Veuve Clicquot has been an iconic character in every adventure I enjoyed with Chris. So in the spirit of charity, I purchased that exact bottle of Veuve Clicquot and auctioned it off at the Great Pumpkin Ball; with proceeds benefiting a cause very dear to my heart — Good Grief.
As I’ve previously written, I had reason to visit the Azores, a small archipelago of nine islands in the Northern Atlantic Ocean. [Read more…]